


Will You Be My (Girl)Friend?

by creepy_crawly



Series: Butterfly Wings [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Genderbending, Kim Hongjoong-centric, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:14:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24599623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creepy_crawly/pseuds/creepy_crawly
Summary: or, Five Times Kim Hongjoong Was Incredibly Gay For Park Seonghwa, And One Time The Feeling Was ReciprocatedWritten as part of a series for Pride Month 2020Part of the Butterfly Wings 'verse
Relationships: Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Series: Butterfly Wings [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1674721
Comments: 7
Kudos: 116





	Will You Be My (Girl)Friend?

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Pride Month! This month, I'll be posting a series of 5+1s. SeongJoong ladies had to be my first, of course, because I love these dumb children far too much. Please enjoy!

The first time Hongjoong looks at Park Seonghwa and finds herself thinking, “holy shit, I am incredibly gay” is the day that they both move in to the dorms.

To be fair, at the time, she doesn’t know that this beautiful, ethereal, elegant, impossibly perfect human being is Park Seonghwa. All Hongjoong knows is that she herself is short, wearing khaki cargo shorts and sweaty tank top, and even the rat’s nest masquerading as a messy bun on top of her head can’t hide how sweaty and dark her roots are. In short, she’s gross and inhuman and ew, and she is trapped in the elevator with an impossibly beautiful, ethereal, elegant goddess of a girl. 

Where Hongjoong’s cheeks are ruddy and flushed, the other girl has a high, blushing pink shading across her cheeks. Her lashes are impossibly long and dark – she  _ has _ to be wearing mascara, but it’s not melting down her face, if she is. She’s holding a cute, mint green shower bucket in one long-fingered hand, and Hongjoong can’t help but notice that her short, round nails are painted with strawberries.

“I really love your nails,” she hears herself blurting out.

The other girl is wide-eyed and startled, just for a moment. Then she smiles, and Hongjoong feels her internal organs all melt into mush.

“Thanks,” the girl says, and then gets off the elevator two floors before Hongjoong’s brain can even pull itself back together. 

\---

The second time Hongjoong looks at Park Seonghwa and thinks, “holy shit, I am incredibly gay,” she’s the only sophomore entrusted with running FabLab Open Hours, so she can’t say anything. Instead, she waits for dinner, where she plonks her tray down across from Yeosang and says, “I am incredibly gay.”

This is not a surprise to Yeosang, who’s known her for a year now, but the announcement does seem to startle the kid sitting next to him, who Hongjoong has not met. Thankfully, Jongho doesn’t seem to mind the awkward introduction; he simply sits beside the pair of sophomores and eats his dinner, listening to Hongjoong fill Yeosang in on the girl whose name she’s finally learned.

Hongjoong had opened up the Fabrics Lab for the regularly-scheduled open hours, and been surprised to see a positive horde of people. She’d let them all in, bemused, and headed to the workstation at the head of the room, so that she could monitor and be ready to answer questions. As people had signed in, it had struck her: next Friday night is the first Greek party of the year. The first two, actually.

“Sweet As Candy for one,” Hongjoong says, “and Anything But Clothes for the other. So everyone who can work a sewing machine is.”

But the love of Hongjoong’s life is especially creative; she spent the two hours stitching together sheets of unfolded candy wrappers, while another girl sat beside her braiding together Starburst wrappers. One of them was named San, and one was Seonghwa, according to the sign in sheet. Hongjoong had learned Seonghwa’s name when the Starburst-braider had frowned and said, “Hwa-unnie, I’ve run out.”

“So what did she say when you introduced yourself?” Jongho asks. As Yeosang’s glee becomes positively palpable, he looks between the two older students. “I mean...you did say hi, right?”

Beside him, Yeosang starts hooting with laughter, even as Hongjoong flushes and hides her face in her arms.

\---

The third time it hits her, it’s the middle of summer term, smack dab between their junior and senior years, it’s hot as blue blazes, and Mingi and Yunho are flirting with each other in the grossest ways possible. Ignoring them, Hongjoong looks at Park Seonghwa and blurts out, “I could not be more gay if I tried.”

Beside her, Mingi laughs so hard he actually physically shoots the beer he is drinking out his nose. It sprays across Yunho, treading water in front of them; the boy groans, grimaces, and ducks under the water. He pops up, tossing his wet hair out of his face, and pouts up at Mingi.

Hongjoong doesn’t seem to notice their antics; her eyes are fixed on Park Seonghwa. The other girl is lowering herself down to sit on the edge of the pool, kicking her long legs in the cool pool water. Her long, dark hair is braided up neatly in a pair of French braids, the ends of which brush her shoulders, just below where her halter top tankini ties in a bow.

For all that her tankini flutters down around her hips and draws up to her neck, and she’s wearing boyshort bikini bottoms, there’s an awful lot of sun-sweet Seonghwa skin on display, and Hongjoong is admiring. She watches as Seonghwa bends forward, splashing water at her friend, then ducks back, giggling, as the favour is returned. 

She wouldn’t mind being the focus of that bright smile, Hongjoong knows, and suddenly she  _ wants _ . She watches Seonghwa splashing with her friend – San? Hongjoong’s pretty sure that’s the same girl from the FabLab – and grips the edge of the pool tightly, trying to build up the courage to swim across the pool and at least say hi. Maybe share her name. Ask Seonghwa’s, like she doesn’t know it already.

Just as Hongjoong gets ready to slide into the water, a boy comes up behind Seonghwa and taps her on the shoulder. He hands her a piece of watermelon, and Seonghwa takes it with a summer-bright smile that he returns. Squinting as she looks up at him, Seonghwa bites into the watermelon.

Hongjoong leans forward and face-flops into the water, only somewhat hoping she drowns.

\---

The fourth time Hongjoong finds herself confronted with how very, very gay she is for Park Seonghwa is on the back deck, at a party, watching the other girl taking care of an incredibly drunk underclassman. 

Seonghwa is as beautiful and put together as ever Hongjoong has seen her, cheeks flushed with alcohol and a couple of strands of hair tumbling loose from her braided halfbun. She’s wearing a corduroy skirt and what have to be wool tights, patterned with snowflakes and geometric patterns. She’s got a stylish coat tugged over her long-sleeved top, and she’s wearing some pretty nice boots, but she’s got to be at least a little chilled. The long chains of her earrings sway and shudder as she moves, like she’s shivering a little.

It’s not how gorgeous she is that gets Hongjoong this time; no, Hongjoong can’t help but notice that she’s standing out there, on a barely-cleared deck, holding an underclassman’s hair. It’s January, and Hongjoong’s not seen her with this kid before, which means that this probably isn’t one of her close friends, and Seonghwa is just taking care of this girl because no one else is. She’s not acting frustrated, either; she’s talking quietly to the girl, rubbing her back and offering her a bottle of water.

Making up her mind, Hongjoong takes a light throw blanket out of the closet by the door. She’ll replace it, she tells herself, if she remembers. Hwanwoong will forgive her. If he notices. Not bothering with her own coat, she opens the back door and steps out onto the deck.

Seonghwa looks up, frowning when she sees Hongjoong. Then, as if realising that she’s scowling at a stranger, she says, “sorry, I was hoping you were her friends.”

Hongjoong holds out the blanket. “You looked cold,” she says. “Should I call someone?”

The vomiting girl wobbles upright, turning carefully, squinting as she tries to focus on Hongjoong. “No,” she slurs. “M’boyfrien’s coming.”

Seonghwa, behind her, shakes her head. Taking the blanket from Hongjoong, she wraps it around the other girl’s shoulders.

“Right,” Hongjoong says, already cold enough to be impressed that Seonghwa’s cheeks were still red, alcohol or no. “I’ll head in. Ask Woongie to clear a bed.”

And, before anyone can say anything, she turns around and heads back inside the house, trying not to squeal with joy from actually having  _ talked _ to Seonghwa.

\---

The fifth time she looks at her and thinks, “I am so, so,  _ so _ gay for Park Seonghwa,” Hongjoong also has a flash of sadness. This is the end of an era, after all; it’s the late night breakfast before their final reading day of their senior year. In two weeks, Hongjoong will never again look up and have Park Seonghwa remind her, viscerally, of just how gay she is.

As excited as she is to be headed out into her adult life, Hongjoong has to admit that she’ll miss seeing Seonghwa around campus. She doesn’t know her, has only spoken to her, like, twice (once at the party last year, and once when she came to pry Mingi out of a study session that Seonghwa turned out to also be in), but Hongjoong knows she has a big fat crush on the other girl. Not only is Seonghwa gorgeous – and she is, in every sense of the word, beautiful, ethereal, elegant, inhuman, perfect, pretty, modelesque, Hongjoong can go for hours – but she’s also kind. Caring. Sweet, smart, and, if Mingi’s stories are true, funny.

_ I stan a queen _ , Hongjoong thinks, yawning as she thrusts a fork into the hashbrowns on her plate. Across the table from her, Jongho is nearly asleep in his plate, because he’s been pulling all-nighters to finish an essay that’s due on the first day of finals. Yeosang, sitting next to her, is paging through the study guide he’s pulled together from his microbio notes. Hongjoong herself is covered in plaster dust, because they practically pulled her out of the studio she’s been holed up in for the last few days. She’s got some art history notes to go over – shouldn’t have left that for her last semester – but her sculpture is going to be the big grade this term, and she knows it.

Seonghwa looks up from her plate of eggs, picking her head up from the hand she’s had it propped on, and meets Hongjoong’s eyes across the tables. She smiles – a sleepy little curl of a thing – and picks up her glass of orange juice. There, in the cafeteria, over the heads of classmates and other students, she raises her glass towards Hongjoong, as if toasting her.

Hongjoong bites her lip. Picking up her own glass – apple juice – she toasts back. 

  
\---

“Come on,” Mingi whines, pulling on Hongjoong’s hand. “You know I don’t have a chance in hell of getting Yunho to do yoga with me. You promised you’d come.”

Hongjoong pouts, even though she lets him tow her along down the sidewalk. She’s not been to this studio before, but Mingi lives closer to it, and they’ve got an open house thing going on this evening. He’s telling the truth; she did say that she’d come with him to do yoga, so that he didn’t have to go into the whole thing alone. And she’s even got her bag over her shoulder. It’s just...it’s been a long day at the museum, doing paperwork and trying to convince her manager to let her at least review the art education programs they do with students. On top of that, there’s still work at home, waiting for her to wrap it up, to be submitted as a portfolio for admission to an art therapy program.

“You’re stressed,” Mingi says seriously, tangling his fingers with hers, not even minding that she’s somehow gotten them streaked in ink. “You know you’ll feel better after pretending to be a rubberband for an hour. And after laughing at me not being able to more than, I don't know, lie there.” He pauses at the dark wood door of what must be the right place.

Hongjoong squeezes his hand back, even as he holds open the door for her. She opens her mouth, ready to tease him about his anticipated lack of flexibility, when what she’s seeing hits her.

Park Seonghwa, gorgeous as ever, is standing at the front desk, clipboard in hand, writing quickly. Her hair is tied back, neat as ever, showing the little gold knots in her ears. She’s wearing a simple grey A-line skirt and a pinstriped blouse, and Hongjoong’s pull-on slacks and plain V-neck have never felt this sloppy and frumpy before. 

“Oh my god!” someone says, and there’s Seonghwa’s roommate from school, her friend, San, standing next to a stocky guy. “Hwa-unnie, look!”

Seonghwa looks up, and Hongjoong’s very, very gay heart stops in her chest. That is an  _ impossibly _ beautiful smile.

“Hongjoong-ssi!” she says, positively beaming, and when did she learn Hongjoong’s name? “I didn’t know you did yoga here!”

“She doesn’t,” Mingi says, after Hongjoong’s goggle-eyed silence starts to stretch. “We’re here for the open house.”

“Us, too!” Seonghwa’s friend says. “Hi, I’m San. This is Wooyoung.” 

“Mingi,” Mingi says. He nudges Hongjoong forward, passing her a clipboard and pen as well. A simple liability form, looks like.

Hongjoong takes it, only able to notice how the shuffling in the group brings her closer to Seonghwa, until they’re standing next to one another.

Seonghwa smiles at her again. Her eyes curve up.

“Hi,” Hongjoong manages, nervously spinning the pen in her hand. “How...how’ve you been? Since school?”

Seonghwa waves a hand. “Not bad, not bad. How about you? You started working at the Modern Art Museum, right?”

How did she know that? Hongjoong nods. She’s not sure where Seonghwa is working; she knows the other woman is good with technology, was towards the top of the CompSci programs. She heard she was being courted by the police, but never heard the outcome. Would it be rude to ask? It would probably be rude to ask.

Seonghwa says something else, and Hongjoong zones back in. Shit, she missed that. Oh, god, how could she not be listening to Seonghwa? She searches the other woman’s face, trying to figure out what she missed, but all she can see is a bright spark in her eyes that is fading, her smile is starting to become brittle, to sag…

“It...it’s fine,” Seonghwa says, waving a hand again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m really, really sorry.” Her cheeks are flaming red.

“No!” Hongjoong blurts. She waves a hand, too. “No, no. I. Uh.” She feels her own cheeks going red. “I...I think you’re incredibly beautiful, and you make me incredibly nervous, and I’m really sorry, I missed what you said.”

Seonghwa’s mouth hangs open for a fraction of a second, and then clicks shut. She smiles. It’s not mean, not at all. “Oh,” she says. Her eyes trace Hongjoong’s face, and then she licks her bottom lip. “I, uh. I’d just asked if you’d like to go out for coffee, to become friends as adults? But the truth is…”

She looks down at her feet. She sets aside the clipboard.

Hongjoong only watches her, a bit confused, her own heart still racing. She can’t believe she just told Seonghwa – Seonghwa! – that she’s beautiful and makes her nervous. What even is her mouth.

Seonghwa swallows, then looks at Hongjoong’s face again. “I, uh, well. Um. Hi, I’m Park Seonghwa, and I have a really embarrassing crush on you, and I’d like it if we could get coffee together sometime.” 

The last words squeak past her lips, and she ducks her head, red to the very tips of her ears.

Hongjoong smiles. Putting aside her own clipboard, she reaches out, snags one of Seonghwa’s nervously-fidgeting hands, and grips it tight. “Hi, Park Seonghwa,” she teases. “I’m Kim Hongjoong, and I am very, very gay when it comes to you. Want to get out of here? I know a cafe around the corner.”


End file.
